


Time Is Up

by thatsprettyfuckinggaydude



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 01:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsprettyfuckinggaydude/pseuds/thatsprettyfuckinggaydude
Summary: I climb the stairs, and open the door to my apartment building’s roof.





	

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning if you didnt read the tags already. i wrote this when i was really suicidey.

I climb the stairs, and open the door to my apartment building’s roof.

I’ve always liked it up here. It's almost peaceful, being away from all my troubles for a little while. I come up here, and i have control over what happens. I am in control for once. On this rooftop, alone, there is no one who can tell me who i can and can't be. I can simply exist. Up here, I am in control of my fate.

I walk to the side of the building, and look down at the traffic and people. I am separated from them by thirty stories.

That's the story of my life isn't it? So close, but always separated. Anyone could cross the gap, but no one wants to. There is no one who wants to sit on a rooftop, staring at the city, with a person like me, just to sit up here and talk.

I start to quietly sing a song, even though no one would hear me, much less care, even if i was screaming. It's a song i have listened to many times. I think about it a lot when i'm up here.

 

 

 

_I'm high above the city,_

I have been like this for a long time. I don't like naming it, even though i know what it is. I feel hopeless, exhausted, and lost. I have some friends, sure, but i don't want to open up and ruin our friendship. I don't want to burden them with what even I have become tired of dealing with, because what if they get tired of me too?

 

 

_I'm standing on the ledge,_

Every day is the same thing. Go to school. Go home. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. It's pathetic, quite frankly. Nothing ever changes. It feels like i'll never get out of this stupid repetitive cycle. I wanted something more from life. If only i had more money, had been born into a different family, hadn't had the life and energy sucked out by anyone and everyone around me. Maybe it could have been different, in another universe.

 

 

_The view from here is pretty,_

You remember how I said i was in control of my fate? It's true. Every day i come up here and decide what my fate will be. Every day, i decide if i will finally take the jump or not. I always put the letter I wrote months ago on my kitchen table for whoever finds it. I wrote a lot about this down. About how they missed it while i faked it, and what i feel and why. It looks like they will be finding it soon, because this time, I won't be going back to hide it again, ‘for when I finally do it’. I walk to where the roof ends. Suicide is morbid. Awful. When you are the one committing the act, it is not poetic in any way. Just relief that it's finally ending. All the pain will be gone as soon as you are. It's finally over.

 

 

_and i step off the edge._


End file.
